Stardust and Moonlight
by DarkDreamWalker
Summary: The blood pooled on the starched white linens, covering the little cot in red. The woman made for a chilling, macabre sight.
1. Chapter One (12-01 12:31:12)

**Good evening and warm welcomes to all. I have never written a fanfic before, but I really hope you like it. ****I do not own any rights to Harry Potter or to anything of JK Rowling's creation. **

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Chapter One

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The forbidden forest was cloaked in frigid white. December came with a vengeance, leaving nothing untouched by frost and snow. The moonlight reflected off of the crystalline spires that hung from the boughs of pine, the heaviness causing them to sag low.

Severus' breath hung in a fog around him as he waited in the wintry dark. Grateful for the warming charms on his cloak, boots, and leather gloves. He cast the _tempus_ charm, relieved to see that there would only be minutes left to wait until midnight. Snowberry was naturally the most potent after a fresh falling of snow. The fact that there was a full moon tonight was just good luck- all herbs and plant matter were best picked at midnight during a full moon. He eyed the bushes full of the small toxic berries greedily. They were round and white, each berry perfect. Severus had spent the majority of the night hunting for the best berries the grounds had to offer. They'd be perfect for the new wound salve he was working on... the saponins in snowberries made for an excellent healing agent with disinfectant properties.

Impatient, he cast the _tempus _charm again and watched the time pass.

_Three minutes. Two minutes. One minute. twenty seconds... fifteen seconds... ten seconds... five seconds... time._

The potions master descended upon the bush and pulled the white berries from the plant as fast as his long agile fingers were able and tucked them into the large dragon hide satchel on his hip. He took meticulous care in keeping the plant itself intact- it wouldn't do to destroy a bush that gave such good ingredients. Every apothecary, potion master, and horticulturist knew that damaged and unhealthy plants gave a weak harvest. He kept his eye on the _tempus_ infront of him, knowing that after the first fifteen minutes of midnight the snowberries would be back to a lower potency.

Once he was satisfied with his bounty he latched the satchel and stood, his neck and back protesting. He didn't mind much. Long nights spent over a cauldron had made him grow used to the near constant ache.

There was a great many things that could be said for nature. It brought peace. Perhaps not the forbidden forest itself, though he was familiar with it and comfortable. None of the creatures held within had ever bothered him be-

_Crack._

A sudden sound jarred him out of his thoughts. With one swift movement Severus brandished his wand and pointed it in the direction the sound had come from.

"_Lumos." _He spoke, the tip of his wand sputtering to life and bathing the frosted underbrush in white light. A whimpering sound reached his ears and he furrowed his brow, weighing his opinions.

Should he investigate or should he leave and put the sound behind him?

The wimpering sound came again and he set off, determined to find the source. It sounded human- female. If he found any idiot students in the bushes together he was going to have an aneurism. He heard a feminine moan and he grit his teeth in irritation as he broke through the underbrush with stealth.

The sound of ragged breathing reached his ears and he peered into the bushes to his left, a sharp and angry admonishment forming on his tongue.

A woman lay in the snow.

Her long hair spread out in a tangled mass around her, soaked in blood. He couldn't tell whether it was red, brown, or black for the filth. Her short dress was in a similar state. The filthy white tatters were rusty with blood, old and new. Doing nothing to protect her from the elements. She lay on her side, pale limbs exposed to the moonlight. Silver cuffs decorated each wrist and ankle. She cried out again, a low pitiful moaning.

Confused, Severus reached for her. She recoiled at his touch, her eyes opening wide. They were unfocused and bleary. She attempted to scramble backwards and away from him but he caught her around her waist, her back cold and slick with congealed blood.

"Be still." He ordered, forcing her into a sitting position. On either side of her spine there were deep verticle wounds. They oozed dark red blood. The blood trickled down her back sluggishly and if not for the snow, she would have already bled out. As it was, she looked moments away from shaking hands with her creator. Her lips were blue and her skin held the deathly pallor of extreme blood loss. How she still clung to her consciousness was a mystery.

Before he could finish thinking it, her body went slack. The woman collapsed against him and he panicked. She was dying. She was going to die. He would bear witness to her passing and he didn't even know her name. He ripped his cloak off and wrapped it around her tightly and then hoisted her up and onto his shoulder and ran through the darkness, aware of the faint breath that sometimes took a moment to long to fall across his skin.

The mystery woman was completely limp in his arms, her head flopped rythmically against his shoulder with each step. There was nothing but the crunching sound of snow and ice and his own labored breath. The cold moon gazed impassively down on them, distant and uncaring.

Hogwarts loomed infront of them. Severus threw his hand out and opened the door wandlessly, not slowing down. The wooden door scraped his right shoulder and it jarred him but he kept running until he made it to the hospital wing. He kicked open the door and called for Madame Pomfrey.

* * *

Madame Pomfrey was awoken by a crash and the deep bass of the potions master. She couldn't make out what he was saying due to the thick stone walls but her heart lept at the sound of panic in his voice. Several times this year he had come in with unexplainable wounds. Covered in blood and delirious. There were times- more than she cared to remember- that she thought she might not have the power to save him. She threw on her cream night robe and ran from her chambers down the short halway that opened up into the hospital wing, terrified at the thought of what she might find.

The sound of clanking bottles and banging cabinets greeted her when she came through the doors. The sight of Severus hurriedly rumaging through the potions cabinet with gritted teeth confused and alarmed her.

"Severus," she called, "what on earth are you doing?"

The potions master ceased his search just long enough to jerk his head to the left and call out a controlled, "Blood loss, severe bruising and lesions. Hypothermia likely. I need a blood replenishment potion as well as a warming tonic."

Madame Pomfrey blinked, darting her gaze to the bed nearest to the potions master and gasped. On the cot lay an unfamiliar woman, as pale as death and dripping with blood. She ran to the woman's side, dropping to her knees to assess the deep gashes on her back. Her clothing was mere strips beneath Severus' cloak.

Severus had laid her on her side. The blood pooled on the statched white linens, covering the little cot in red. The woman made for a chilling, macabre sight. Madame Pomfrey closed her eyes and muttered a healing spell to staunch the blood flow. She pressed her hands to the woman's back and repeated it over and over in a litany.

Somewhere Severus was cursing before he finally came to her side.

"Sit her up, Poppy."

It was easy. The girl was so slight, bordering on skeletal. Madame Pomfrey shivered when her hand made contact with the silver cuff around her wrist.

_Someone held her captive and tortured her... _judging by the amount of scaring and fresh wounds she could see around the cuffs, her captors had her for a very long time. She studied the cuffs, her brow furrowed. They had an inscription around the beveled edges. The cuffs themselves were pristine and borded on decorative. Her thoughts were interupted as Severus pried open the woman's mouth and poored a small cocktail of potion down her throat.

"Her wounds aren't closing." Poppy whispered, the blood under her fingers had slowed but didn't stop. It was worrisome. If she didn't clot, the potion would do her no real good... she'd continue to bleed out.

Severus exhaled loudly through his nostrils, his eyes fixed and intent while he rubbed the woman's throat to make her swallow. Then he nudged her out of the way, closed his eyes and sang.

"_Vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur_."

Sweat began to trickle down the side of his face, the blood refused to stop.

_"V__ulnera senentur... vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur."_

He pressed harder to her back, mustering all the power he could.

_"Vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur..."_ he trailed off, opening his eyes to see that the woman was still. Her chest ceased rising and falling. He was too late. She was dead.

Severus released her, his hands almost black with her blood. He wondered what horror had accompanied her in her last moments. What pain. He sighed and shook himself. It was done. Her suffering was over now. Madame Pomfrey reached past him, her face severe as she pulled the white hospital sheet over the dead woman's face.

"Well, that's that then." Severus stated, looking at the woman with practiced stoicism.

"Poor dear. I'll have to raise St. Mungos to take her before the children see..." Madame Pomfrey sniffled loudly, wandering away from them to cry under the guise of rearranging her cabinets.

Severus stood to assist the hospital matron and then the woman gasped, a deep lungful of air that pulled the white sheet taut over her mouth. He ripped it away, his eyes wide with disbelief. The woman beneath the sheet coughed weakly and he scooped her up into a sitting position and held her hair back while she retched out stomach bile. She shakily looked up at him, blood and sweat plastering her filthy hair to her forehead. Her deep blue eyes were almost purple in the low sconce light of the hospital wing.

He felt a sense of relief. She was alive. Shaking and sick, but alive.

"Poppy," he barked, "flue St. Mungos immediately and inform the Head Master!"

_To be continued..._

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**Author's Note**

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**Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this chapter. Please, leave a review and tell me how you liked or disliked it. **


	2. Chapter Two

**I do not own the rights to Harry Potter in any shape or form. The parts of this story that are not from the series is simple fantasy staring the characters we know and love.**

**_Seriousblahblah_:** **Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm glad that it drew you in and that you enjoyed it. :)**

**_GeekyPlus:_ Thanks to you as well! I am a writer but I've never written a fanfic before. I have a case of writer's block for my own book so I decided to play in JK's world a bit for practice. I'm very glad you liked it. **

**Guest:**** Muchas gracias por tu comentario. Me alegro mucho de que te guste. :) Espero que te quedes con esta historia, la identidad de nuestra misteriosa mujer se revelará pronto!**

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Chapter Two

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It had been three days since he found the woman in the forbidden forest. Three _long _days. Severus told himself not to wonder, not to care... but his thoughts wandered over the events of that night whenever there was nothing else to occupy his time.

_A representative of St. Mungos had come to speak with Severus that morning after they spirited the woman away for treatment. They needed his statement. He went through the when, where, and why as efficiently as he could and then he made his way back to the dark spartan chambers that served as his home during the school year at Hogwarts. It was dark and silent. The cold dungeon made his bones ache._

_Severus paced back and forth infront of the dying fire of his parlor for the rest of the early morning hours. The adrenaline that coursed through him that morning having left him a tad distraught and unable to find rest._

Coming back to himself, Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose.

_She is of no concern to you, _he told himself. And yet... he still felt responsible. He was shorter than normal with his students that day, every little thing a source of his ire.

He seethed around the dungeon as he tended to his potion making after classes. He aggressively chopped flabberworms and ground moonstone, all the while wondering what had become of her.

Did she come from a wizarding family? He doubted she was a muggle, even if she was a muggleborn witch. She would have attended Hogwarts long ago. What would a muggle be doing in the forbidden forest?

Sensing that he would find no rest again tonight, he exstinquished the fire in the the grate. He eyed the small jar of flue powder for a moment before summoning a house elf. The elf came promptly.

"What can Twinkle do for you, Professor Sir?" She asked, obscenely large brown eyes trained on his feet.

"Tell the Head Master that I will be back shortly, I've gone to run a personal errand." With that, Severus grabbed a fistful of the silvery ashes and stepped into the fireplace.

"Yes, understood, Sir." Twinkle said, disappearing to relay his message to the Head Master.

Severus hesitated for a moment before steeling himself. He threw down the powder. "Saint Mungos, visitor's entrance."

* * *

He arrived at St. Mungos feeling less confident than he did when he had left Hogwarts. There were several flues lining a pristine and clinical white corridor. Many friends and family members hurried through flues and down the long hallway that connected to the main hospital. He followed the flow of bodies to a large stone desk where a plump witch sat looking decidely bored.

"May I help you?" She eyed him suspiciously, turning in her squeaky and uncomfortable looking leather chair to face him.

"Yes. I'm here to see a patient."

"What room?" She asked, swiping the stray brown hairs that had come untucked from her bun out of her face and grabbing a thick accordion style folder and a clip board.

"I don't know."

"Patient name?" She asked again, one eyebrow arched as she dipped her quill in the small inkwell perched on her desk.

"I don't know."

"Then we're going to have a problem," she snapped, "why are you here?"

"I'm here to see a patient." He enunciated sarcastically.

The witch grit her teeth, "I can't let you in to see a patient unless I know _who_ it is."

"I've already told you that I don't know her name," He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering at her, "filthy woman in rags, taken from Hogwarts. Severe bloodloss."

Something must have clicked because the witch's face changed entirely and she scrambled out of her chair, straightening her attire and looking sheepish.

"Oh, yes. Of course. Follow me, please. She's in room 204..." she set off down the hallway to their left. He followed, his foot falls heavy and foreboding behind the soft _click clack _of the witch's heels.

She stopped at a door at the end of the hall and turned to him, "She's been unconscious since she arrived."

He nodded and the woman opened the door, allowing him admittance. The woman was more or less as she was the last time he had seen her. Someone had seen fit to change her into a gown and scourgify her but her hair was still filthy. The witch left him alone after reminding him of their visiting hours.

Severus sank into the faded blue chair that sat against the wall furthest from the bed and closed his eyes. _Why am I here?_ He thought to himself, _I don't even know this woman._

_You saved her life_, his rational mind answered back. _You are bound in blood._

He let out a shaky sigh. Blood debts were serious buisness. By saving her life, traditionally he accepted responsibility for her well-being and bound her to him until the blood debt was paid or until he died. It was the way of things. Magic was as useful as it was annoying at times.

A medi-witch dressed in light blue and white robes entered the room. She froze when she saw him, her eyes curious but she said nothing as she made her way to the unconscious woman.

He watched the small blonde-haired witch from across the room, scrutinizing her skill as she maneuvered her this way and that to check on her.

The woman was asleep. The medi-witch had tried to scourgify the girl again and used a clean rag on her but there was so much filth built up that it did little good. A proper bath would be the only thing that could lift the layers of scum and neglect.

"She still hasn't awaken?" The medi-witch asked softly into the quiet room, eyes pitiful and sad. Her gaze went over the woman and she _tsked_ before turning to meet his eyes.

"Indeed," he forced his own gaze back to the woman, "has anyone identified her yet? Any information at all?"

The mediwitch shook her head, pressing her lips in to a thin line. "We haven't a clue other than those cuffs... but we believe she might be part fey of some variety, or at least touched. The cuffs are silver lined with iron. They've burned deep scars into her wrists."

Severus' brows shot up, his voice incredulous, "Can you not remove them?"

"I'm sorry, we tried but we can't."

Severus stood, narrowing his black eyes on the woman. Anger mounted in his heart swiftly. Close to roiling. They _obviously _weren't doing their best. He crossed the room stifly and picked up the woman's arm. Gingerly examining the intricate cuff that encircled her thin wrist. Fresh blood coated the inside of the cuff. It was indeed burning her. The beveled edges were inscribed with an elegant and flowing script.

"Goblin-made..." he noted through clenched teeth. How he _hated_ Goblins, "enchanted, no doubt." He ran his fingers over the cuff looking for a locking mechanism or seam but came up empty handed. A small loop lay flat against the inside of her wrist but no matter how he pried it held firm. He continued to investigate it, some distant memory niggling at the back of his mind.

"It's undoubtly _dark magic,_" the medi-witch dropped her voice to a whisper, "we don't know what it might do to her if we try to remove them let alone _actually_ manage to get them off."

Severus pursed his lips, his gaze hard and steely as he wracked his mind for all of miscellaneous information he knew about the fey-folk and ways to trap them. Of course, cuffs lined with iron would do the trick... but to what end?

The woman stirred and he released her hastily, holding his breath. Her eyes fluttered open. The same curious purple-hued blue eyes from the hospital wing stared up at him and held him there. She tilted her head to the right, such a minute, insignificant movement and yet it told him that she at least remembered him.

"Hello, my name is Severus Snape." He said awkwardly, still standing above her.

She smiled a small, serene, and polite smile but said nothing.

The mediwitch rushed over to her, lighting the tip of her wand to check her pupilary light reflex. The woman's face pinched as the medi-witch drew near, fear washing over her. She recoiled in on herself, cowering away in confusion and raising her hands to protect her face.

"Hey, it's okay..." the witch crooned, "no one will hurt you here."

The woman continued to scoot away, almost falling off the side of the bed in an effort to escape the probing witch and her damned light.

"Give her a moment." Severus spoke firmly, feeling a swell of pity. He caught her against him and pulled her to a stand. She swayed for a moment but he righted her on her feet before stepping away to give her space. She instinctively backed herself into the corner, watching them both with wary eyes.The woman obviously had no idea what happening or where she was.

"If you're going to interfere with the care of this patient, you may leave." The medi-witch snapped at him. Severus stared at her, hard and even with black eyes that somehow seemed to burn like dying coals.

The medi-witch cleared her throat and addressed the woman, "Can you understand me?"

Her eyes darted to Severus, almost as if she was seeking his protection or assurance. He turned toward her and came closer.

"It's alright... this woman is a medic. She is here to help you. Everything will be alright," he coaxed, "I will stay here." Speaking in such a way did not come naturally to him, but she reminded him much of a deer he once befriended when he was a boy during his time at Hogwarts as a student. It had been such a shy fawn then. He'd spent hours talking softly to it every day for a week before it came close enough to smell him.

The woman fidgeted with the cuff around her wrist, staring down at it contemplativly and giving it a healthy tug before she frowned and held up her wrist to show it to them.

"No, we can't remove them," he said patiently as he gestured to the medi-witch, "this woman needs to examine you. Can she do that?"

The woman flicked her eyes to the witch apprehensively but nodded her consent.

"My name is Bronwyn," the medi-witch said kindly, approching slower and with more tact. "What's your name, love?"

The woman still didn't speak, opting instead to resume fidgeting with the cuff. Her filthy hair fell in a tangled matt across her forehead, effectively obscuring her face.

"Well, then..." the witch began, looking to Severus hopelessly as though he could force her to speak, "well... all of this can wait. Let's get you in the bath."

The medi-witch shooed him away with the promise that tomorrow he could see her, if he wished. Which he did for some inexplicable reason.

* * *

The medi-witch, Bronwyn, returned with a very different looking woman though livid bruises and cuts still marred her. While he had thought her hair might have been red or brown, it's true color was a pale shade of blonde that bordered on silvery. It was much longer than it had seemed before, falling in minky soft waves to her hips. Her face was small and heart-shaped, her eyes large but not overly. Lips pale but well-shaped, and chin pointed. She appeared very fey-like now that he could view her properly.

But she was small. Very small for an adult woman, which made him wonder if she wasn't still very young. It may have been due to who knew how many weeks, months or-he shuddered to think- _years_ of malnutrition and torture. He glanced back to her face but found no real answer there. She had an ageless face, but her eyes were not the eyes of a child despite their gleam. He had never dealt with the fey-folk of her kind before but he suspected that she was a human mix. Her eyes met his and they seemed to swirl, nebulous blues, purples, and silvers in the depths of her strange irises. Her pupils dialated and rapidly shifted between large and small.

The woman approached him, almost upon him before he realized while he had been too busy gazing into her strange eyes. She moved like mist, silent and smooth. He blinked at her in surprise when she set her hand above his heart and smiled at him. Not knowing what else to do, he repeated the gesture only for the smile to slip from her face. She shrugged off his touch and turned, glancing away from him and then back out of the corner of her eye with some reproach.

It was a very odd encounter that served little to no purpose but to increase the confusion he felt. He had the oddest notion that he had offended her somehow, but he didn't know why or how.

"How are you doing today," he asked, "hopefully feeling better?"

She tilted her head and made an odd gesture, curving her wrist and hand downward and then back up with a flourish as though she were stretching her palm and fingers.

Bronwyn sighed, "We have not gotten any luck with getting her to speak. She won't tell us anything..." she watched the woman pick up the only pillow on the small hospital bed, pulling it apart to see what was inside. Bronwyn frowned.

"Have you asked her?" Severus questioned, ignoring the woman's interesting behavior.

"Asked her what?"

"If she _can_ speak." Severus growled, his temper trying to leak out.

"Well. Actually..." Bronwyn looked shocked, "no."

Severus cast her a baleful look and carefully approached the woman investigating the contents of her pillow and caught her attention. She smiled at him and offered him a handful of stuffing. He took it.

"Thank you," he said, taking the bizarre gift and shoving it into his robes, "can you speak?"

The woman opened her mouth as though she were about to, but she sighed instead. Nothing but warm, moist breath. Her eyes turned sad as she shook her head.

"Do you have a name?"

Another shake.

_No name?_ The idea floored him. Surely she had a name. It was an inconceivable idea to believe that a woman of her age -undetermined as it may be- didn't posses even a single syllable in which she went by. He watched her continue her controlled exploration of the contents of her pillow, a gnawing ache whitling away at his guts in much the same manner that she thrusted her tiny fist into the pillow.

"Would you like one?" He asked, not recognizing his own voice for a moment. The years of abuse he had gone through as a child rained down, a malestrom of anger, sorrow, and a strange protectiveness. His mother and father had been cruel, but they had at least given him a _name._

She smiled radiantly at him and drew closer to him, her pleased eyes wide and expectant as she waited for her new name.

"Would it make you happy?" He asked, looking down at her, once again strangely enchanted. She nodded enthusiastically and placed both hands on his arm.

Severus took a deep breath, "Amaris, short for Amarissa."

The woman closed her eyes, letting the sound of her new name wash over her. She shook him slightly.

"Amarissa." He said again, his heart flipping in his chest. Amarissa opened her eyes, a single tear falling before her face broke into a huge smile. She wrapped her arms around him and burried her face in his robes. Her head rested perfectly over his heart.

Severus froze, becoming stiff and uncomfortable in her embrace even though a part of him really enjoyed the affectionate contact. He wasn't used to gentleness. He disengaged. Amarissa was still smiling even as he held her at arm's length, those nebulous eyes swirling in happiness.

"Would you like me to visit you again?" He asked. She nodded her head vigerously and he almost chuckled at her enthusiasm but refrained.

"I'll come back tomorrow." He promised.


	3. chapter 3

**I do not own the rights to Harry Potter in anyway. This is just an excersize for me and a way to visit old "friends."**

**AquamarineGem:** **Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad that you picked up on the fact that Amarissa trusts Severus because she remembers that he saved her life. That will be important later on!**

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Chapter Three

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Severus visited Amarissa again. It was the first day of Christmas break and Severus was grateful that he had no real demands on his time for the next several days.

Amarissa seemed pleased to see him- or at least he believed she was. She grinned when he entered her small hospital room and bounded over to him gracefully, stopping short of an embrace.

"Good afternoon, Amarissa..." he greeted, "I've got work to do, but I came as promised."

She tilted her head and flashed him a mischievous smile that wrinkled her nose, almost as if to say _I know that you wanted to see me._

She stretched her slender arms in a wide arcing motion, the light from the sconces in the small room glittering in the reflection of her shackles.

He frowned.

Once again there was some stray memory trying to creep through the vast abyss of his subconcious but to no avail. He concentrated but the more effort he put into its pursuit, the faster it slipped away from him until it was left as some shadow of a half-thought that was never truly formed._ How irritating._ His frown deepened.

Severus settled into the now familiar stiff hospital chair, his eyes fixed on Amarissa and never wavering. He simply observed her for awhile before gesturing to the silver and iron that bound her.

"Are those restraints keeping you from speaking?"

Amarissa's ever present smile faultered. She reached down and tugged at her cuff, her eyes like a storm at see. They raged a swirling vortex of blue, silver, and violet. He could feel her anger like a sudden blast of wind. She nodded her head stiffly.

"You were afraid of the mediwitch's wand," he questioned, "did a witch or wizard do this to you?"

Another nod answered him. He drew his brows together, leaning forward in the chair to rest his fist under his chin.

"A witch?"

She shook her head.

"A wizard then." His frown deepened... a wizard with knowledge of the fey.

"Do you know what he wanted from you?"

This time Amarissa's gaze grew cold and distant. She sat down on ber bed and drew her knees close to her chest and looked at him sadly. The back of her hospital gown revealed several inches of her spine, her vertabrae like spikes poking through the tight stretch of her pale flesh. Two thick bandages stained red covered the horible wounds that he knew were still not responding well to magic.

Severus forced himself to look away. He sat and contemplated the painful existance she must have endured at the hands of whoever had kept her captive. With a shudder, he only hoped that it didn't have anything to do with the Dark Lord...

Amarissa suddenly sat up straight, looking straight at him with eyes full of panic.

"What is it?" He asked, turning to face her fully.

She pointed to her head and made another one of her alien gestures. She slowly brought her hand flat against her ear and then curled her fingers together and moved it away as though something invisible were now firmly in her grasp. Her eyes bore into his, willing him to understand.

"Can you hear my thoughts?" He asked her slowly, a cold sensation spreading through him.

"_ Very fa__int..._"

A cool and melodic whisper spoke into his mind. He paled. His occulemency sheilds were still in place. He checked, they were like steel. She wasn't even trying and yet she could still hear his thoughts.

Severus clenched his jaw. Legitimacy must be one of her gifts, or at least a developing talent... he exhaled slowly, calming his racing heart.

"Amarissa, may I have your permission to perform legilimens on you?"

She stared into his eyes, a slight grimace on her face but she nodded her consent.

Severus pulled his wand out of his robe and leveled it on her, the tip hoveri hcg just inches from the center of her forehead. She shut her eyes and became rigid, her hands balled into fists and every inch of her was trembling.

"_Legilimens!"_ He spoke, diving into her mind.

_Amarissa was in chains, filthy and unresponsive. Men and women Severus had never seen surrounded her. One man threw a bucket of filthy looking water on her and she gasped. The crowd cheered when she turned on them savagely with a shriek and bared teeth. She lunged forward but the silver and iron cuffs still decorated her wrists, now connected behind her back by a short__iron chain. She shifted uncomfortably and cowered back into her corner.__Flecks of iron had been embedded in the stone as well as three sets of wide-banned rings._

_Her captors took turns tormenting her, some jabbing her with long poles, others continues to dump water onto her. One was bold and grabbed her by the face and kissed her. She quickly sank her teeth into his face and he backhanded her hard, her small body crumbling against the stone behind her._

_Severus looked away, unwilling to watch whatever sick pleasures these people took at her expense. Anger and rage filled every part of him. His palms grew hot, his nostrils flared. The room was large and dark, decidedly damp. A large and expensive leather and velvet livingroom set was off to one corner. Odd specimens in jars lined the far shelf. Small cages hung from the ceiling with unknown creatures chittering, growling, and howling._

_One could safely venture a guess that this was a Black Market for magical creatures... probably somewhere in Nocturne Alley._

_There was discussion amongst the crowd of the Dark Lord and Severus tuned into it.__"_

_"He wants 'er cause she's so powerful. Pretty thing that, tuh bad. I 'eard thah she was part faery. Wick'd devils they be."_

_A new voice spoke, reprimanding in a hiss. "You've drank too much, Thomas. This thing is very important. We have to break her before Bellatrix comes to collect her. She has to be manageable. The Dark Lord wants her tamed."_

_The sound of a man screaming shattered his thoughts and he turned back to the crowd. Amarissa stood tall. An avenging Goddess covered from head to toe in blood and filth. The chain that bound her was wrapped around the neck of a man who was slowly turning purple. Her eyes were wide and savage.__A woman wailed and sent a cutting curse flying her way, much like his own Sectum Sempra, and it left large bloody wounds down her exposed back. Amarissa howled and threw the man at the crowd, the momentum snapping the chain that held her cuffs together._

_Then chaos erupted._

_The crowd screamed, tripping over eachother to get out of her way. She had become death and rage incarnate. The man she had thrown lay motionless and crooked, absolutely wrong. He was most assuredly dead.__With a scream that could rival that of a banshee she rushed the witch still firing curses at her, grabbing her by the face and crushing it in her hand. Blood splattered all over her face and body. She let the -now dead- witch go, her body making a sickening thump against the floor.__Then Amarissa walked torturously over the iron studded floor, her face a mask of excruciating pain. She made it through the first ring, stopping just before the second. She fell to her knees and cried, brokenly screaming. A haunting keen of agony and despair before she drug herself past the second ring and on to the third. She stared at it, her blood and tears splashing over the metal for a long moment before she lunged towards the ring, letting the momentum propel her through it.__She lay on her side, every inch of her twitching in pain before she went quiet._

_The crowd had already fled as fast as they were able._

_ No one stuck around to see what she would do or what she was capable of._ _Severus watched her in horror as she once again rose to her feet and made her way out into the cold dark night. She would have walked for days to end up in the forbidden forest._

* * *

Severus broke the connection, taking a deep shuddering breath. His eyes were trained on his feet when he opened them but he willed himself to straighten. His gaze leveled onto her, the version he had seen melted away. She was not a filthy savage beast with eyes that gleamed and teeth that were bared.

She stood, quiet and still. Her pale limbs were crossed over her chest and her swirling eyes bored deep into his, sorrow bleeding from every pore. Against his better judgement, he closed the space between them and wrapped his arms around her. She gripped his robes and cried softly while his hand came up of it's own accord to gently caress her newly cleaned silvery locks.

"It will be alright now," he whispered hoping even as he felt dread spreading through the entirety of his being. "You cannot be harmed anymore."

* * *

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